


Every Rose Has It's Thorns (And Darling, Oh How I Love To Suffer Yours.)

by CescaLR



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Future, F/F, Femslash, Past Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Past Relationship(s), Past Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Post-Season/Series 06, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Yeppers, eh, if nobody's gonna write this pairing then I guess I'll just have to do it myself, kind of?, scolia what scolia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CescaLR/pseuds/CescaLR
Summary: Malia. France.And, apparently: Witches. Wizards. Well, at least this sounds more like a fun adventure than Malia's usual. Eh. Why not.(Also. This blonde woman's.... really very pretty.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> such a fucking dramatic title I'm just--- what, why. I promise this is actually fairly happy. As happy as I can write things, at any rate. 
> 
> Also I recommend https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NFpfCD3g18w to set the Fleur/Malia stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and also:
> 
> https://imgur.com/a/7QgSgyj
> 
> for manips. I'm committed to this ship damnit.

After the Anuk-Ite business was dealt with properly, and everything settled in Beacon Hills, after Stiles went back to the FBI and Lydia skipped off to uni, Malia told Scott she was taking that plane to France. 

She didn't tell him how long she planned to stay there. She didn't tell him her ticket was one-way. Peter, for lack of anything better to do, she supposed, than annoy, frustrate, and otherwise be a nuisance to his daughter, decided to tag along. After all, it was his money she was spending.

And her mother's. One isn't an assassin without some capital to your name, after all. It's a petty victory, buying things with her awful biological parents' money that cost way too much and are far too frivolous, but it is one all the same. A fit of nostalgia has her buying a jeep, because emotions don't fade as easily as she'd like. But regardless of that - she's in France, she has a jeep since she left her old car back in America, she has a flat, her father is nowhere to be found and she doesn't much care about that, and Malia can do... 

Whatever she wants. 

So yes. After the Anuk-Ite business, you could say she runs. You'd be an idiot if you did, but you _could_ say it. Really, what Malia was doing, was finding herself. A change of scenery, a sense of freedom. No supernatural messes to be caught up in that are not of her own making, so long as the Argents and the other, less proficient hunters, stay in their lanes and respect her boundaries. 

Malia looks around the flat she's rented out. It's a nice place, spacious, but not too big for one person, maybe two, if a couple lived here. It's up high, with a nice view, and it's got good furnishings. 

Corrine's money, of course. It's a bit disheartening using blood money - because that's what it is - but... _Malia's_ using it. Corrine would _hate_ that, _viciously,_ so Malia's mostly okay with using it. That _sounds_ like an excuse, but really, it's a good reason. A valid one. Malia will take anything that means she can hold off on joining the mundane adult world a little longer.

She never really got to be a teenager, after all. She can't be one now, too mature, too old even at nearly nineteen. But she can be a young adult, loiter around the uni and do various uni things without actually bothering with higher education just yet. She can go to parties and bars and clubs and she can go for long walks in the park, runs, jogs, she can shift in the woods and do laps in her coyote form. She can go to the movies, read, play video games like she never got to before.

It is... a little lonely, though. 

* * *

Malia shifted and ran, and ran, and found herself in a quaint little village, with a few old-looking shops and houses and a nice-seeming B&B. Malia hid behind some dustbins and shifted back, dropping the bag she'd been holding in her mouth previously, then picking it up with her now human hands and quickly removing the clothes she'd stashed away in there.

Once dressed, Malia left the little alley. Or, she was about to, then she heard a sudden, rather loud, _crack._

Malia jolted, and turned around instinctively. Her claws were already out, and her eyes were likely glowing blue, but her fangs had only partially made themselves known. 

"Ah," The woman who was the source of the noise - said? Malia had never figured out if it was 'said' when people... made those noises? anyway - said. "Eet appears I 'ave startled you. I am sorry." She said, in somewhat heavily accented English. 

Malia might have sworn when the woman appeared, which is probably why she knew to speak something other than French. 

"Where did you come from?" Malia half-growled, startled still and not pleased by that. She was still on-edge from all the fighting the Anuk-Ite and all the previous things had caused, alongside her Mother, but at the same time, she'd grown complacent. Nothing had tried to kill her in over a month, after all. Malia resolved to pay closer attention to her surroundings; wherever the woman came from had made a loud noise, of course, but...

Malia didn't get to finish that thought.

"I apparated, of course," The woman pursed her lips at Malia. "Surely ze Americans taught you apparition? Or," She frowned, angry, but not at Malia. Curious. "Or, perhaps, iz ze American government as - barbaric as Europe's iz regarding ze education of Shapeshifters such as yourself?"

"Uhm." Malia - said. The woman humphed. "I imagine you don't even know what I am on about, do you?" "No," Malia said, bluntly. "Not a clue."

The woman laughed. It was a pretty sound - there was an edge to it, though. A buzzing, almost, that made Malia's head feel a little fuzzy. The woman really was rather pretty. "At least you are honest," The woman said. "It iz rare, zese days, though less rare than eet used to be." The woman told her, though Malia had no idea what she meant by any of that. 

The woman was blonde. Malia frowned at her, squinting. Something was - strange, though. A little fuzzy. "But I have no manners," The woman said, "I am Fleur Delacour," She said, "And you?"

"Malia Tate," Malia told her, seeing no real reason not to. "And you are which type of shapeshifter?" The woman asked. "Werecoyote," Malia said. The woman likely didn't know the significance of blue eyes, and for now, Malia wasn't going to tell her. It was likely, Malia thought, because she hadn't reacted particularly negatively or positively to her eyes; in fact, she'd shown rather no strong emotions about any of this at all. 

"I have never 'eard of zat," Fleur Delacour said, musing. "Iz eet specific to America?"

"I don't think so," Malia said. "Maybe?"

Fleur Delacour humphed, again. Malia glanced towards the entrance to the alley. "I was 'ere to do a bit of birthday shopping for my daughter, Victoire," Fleur said, her eyes boring into Malia's. Malia got a distinct feeling that Fleur had assessed her in some way, and found her satisfactory enough to tell her such things. "And I imagine you were 'ere for some shopping too?"

"Not a birthday, but yeah," Malia said. "I wanted to browse." She'd gotten to browse before, of course. Kira liked to look around, Stiles liked to just... be togther, she supposed. Enjoy the quiet moments of mundane life. Lydia was perhaps the most exacting of the lot when it came to shopping; she knew what she wanted and if she didn't she'd take one look at something and decide to 'try it out' or 'try it on' and they would discard it very quickly if Lydia felt it wasn't worthy of being in either of their possession. 

Malia swallowed lightly. She hadn't said goodbye to a lot of people. 

"Come, then," Fleur Delacour said, imperiously. "We shall walk togezer. 'Ave you shopped 'ere before?" 

"No," Malia said. "I just found the place."

Fleur nodded as she strode out of the alley. The clothes she was wearing, Malia realised, changed at the flick of the stick she was holding. The clothes she'd had before resembled somewhat a dress, but different. This attire, now, looked more like a fashionable, clean-cut women's suit, with a pencil skirt and sharp lines, perfectly tailored to her figure. 

Malia mentally prepared herself, before following the woman onto the street.

"Zese are 'igh-class establishments," Fleur started explaining. "So zat attire is... acceptable if you 'ave ze money to show off. I shop 'ere rarely, zese days; the stock was so much better in ze early two-thousands - but I digress," She stopped suddenly in front of a clothes store which didn't even bother labelling prices. The stuff on the racks was gaudy and strange, and they looked - 

"Az you can see," Fleur said, gesturing disdainfully towards the store, "Ze 'igh-couture muggles 'ave gotten stranger and stranger... though, I do suppose eet iz better than the stagnation of wizarding fashion over the last... oh, seventy years?" She glowered forward, but not necessarily directly at the shop itself. "No matter. Follow me," She spun on her heel, long blonde hair kept back neatly in a ponytail swishing behind her. Malia did so, for lack of anything better to do, and the woman continued in this vain with the other shops.

She stopped complaining when they reached the midway point of the street, and started making approving noises and even a few pleased sentences once they reached the far end. 

"And 'ere we are," she said. "My daughter has wanted this dress for a few months now - I am rather glad," Fleur confided, "That she az not gained an interest in clothes zat are only 'in season'." Fleur sniffed. "Trends come and go. Zere are classics, zen zere is what we saw in the first shop, which is 'in season', if you are to believe ze muggles."

"Right," Malia said. Lydia had talked about much the same stuff, if a little differently and with no mention of 'wizarding fashion' or 'muggles' - which, _what the fuck -_ but... hmm.

Perhaps this could be interesting. Regardless - Malia's been a little restless these last few days. It was that restlessness which brought her here in the first place, and she supposes that wasn't so bad, now, was it? 

"Come," Fleur said, and Malia followed her into the shop. What followed was a rapid-fire conversation between Fleur and one of the shop's employees, entirely in french. To be fair, Malia should really have learned the language at least a little before she decided to come here but... well. Mistakes were made. Lapses in judgement. 

She'll learn. A fair few people had told her she was quick at that when she wanted to be. 

Fleur and Malia left the shop fifteen minutes later with Victoire's dress and a pair of jeans Malia felt weirdly guilty about buying, even if it was her father's money. 

She hadn't let him buy her a car. She'd used her mother's money for that. 

"So," Fleur said. "I suppose I should explain ze wizarding community of France, az eet iz rather different from your American version."

"Yeah," Malia said. "Must be." France was different from the USA in so many ways. Why would the supernatural world be any different? Malia had never met any wizards before, true, and it was strange that Fleur seemed to think she had - but Malia would only correct her if that seemed like a good idea, and right now... something in her gut made her think it wasn't. 

Perhaps it was the paranoia. But Malia couldn't shake the feeling this woman wouldn't like to know she'd told someone wholly unaware of magic about magic. 

Fleur held out her arm once they reached the alley way. "I can apparate you into ze street," She said, "Bypassing ze statue. I shall show it you when we leave. First, though - books. I shall attempt to tell you all I know that would be useful, but zere are some things only you will need zat I do not know or care for knowing."

At least she seemed honest enough. Malia took her arm. "I must warn you," Fleur said, "Zat side-along apparition is... unpleazant for the first few trips." And with that, and a sickening _crack,_ they were gone from the alley. But Malia could feel the movement - and Fleur was right, it was _awful,_ and Malia was wholly certain if she - could tell if she had a stomach and a mouth right now in the right places, she'd have vomited up lunch. 


	2. Chapter 2

"Here we are," Fleur said, once they arrived - Malia assumed at the main magic mall. It was - well, it was more like a street of shops, which did make sense, given the last set of magical shops she'd just seen was collated in much the same vein, and Malia hadn't seen many malls around the places she'd been, anyway. Shopping centres, sure, but no malls. 

Malia leaned heavily against the thankfully nearby wall when she regained awareness of where all her organs and body parts and general self was in relation to the rest of it, a strong sense of vertigo and nausea taking over for a moment. 

The blonde waited patiently as Malia recovered. Once she had, Fleur linked her arm with Malia's as she guided her out onto the street proper. "And zat is ze reason zere is a wall zere," She stated, faintly amused. "I remember my first proper long-distance apparition - eet was not pleazant." The woman shook her head. "But - az I said. 'Ere we are." She gestured, grandly, at the street before them. 

"Whoa." Malia gazed around at the sight before her. She'd never seen the like - but then, Malia supposed, she hadn't known about this kind of magic before now. The other woman humphed again at her reaction, and Malia would have been a bit miffed if she hadn't said what she did next; "Eet iz incredibly unfair, 'ow zey treat your kind in our world," She glared around at passers-by. "I see no reazon you should not be taught about ze magical world, even if you cannot use a wand yourself. You are magic, even if eet iz not in ze same way as I." 

"I didn't even know it existed," Malia confided, quietly, as they wandered down the street. "I thought so," The woman nodded, pursing her lips after. "It will be best, zen, to buy you a few history books. I can tell you about the more recent things myself, of course, though I rather think you'd like to know how people in your situation have been treated - for reference," She nodded towards a barber "-Zat is ze only werewolf owned, run, and staffed building in ze main centre." Fleur frowned. "Ze circus comes around every so often... zey _love_ people like you."

Malia heard her tone and grimaced. "Avoid?" She asked.

"Oui," Fleur nodded, sharply. "Ze bookstore. Come." Fleur led them inside the shop, the door hitting a bell as it opened and announcing their presence. 

"Madame Delacour!" "Monsieur Dorian," Fleur smiled at the man. They had a short conversation in French, the small bits of which Malia caught that she could understand meaningless small-talk. "Zis iz my American friend, Malia Tate. She iz - new," Fleur said, pointedly, "And does not speak much French yet."

"Sorry," Malia said. "Hmm." The man frowned at her. "Well! It is good I have many books to teach you, yes?" The man smiled at her, winking. "Don't let Fleur scare you off, now! Come, come - let me show you around!"

Fleur removed her arm from Malia's and wandered off into the shop proper. Malia looked back to the Monsieur Dorian character, who smiled at her. "Veela; hard to look away, no?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "But you know all about that! No, follow me. Languages are this way, Madame Tate," He gestured. The man's accent was lighter than Fleur's, but Malia knew better than to ask. She was blunt, but not so much so towards total strangers. 

"Alright," Malia said, following. "How long have you known about... all this?" The man gestured to the shop and, likely, magic in general. He spoke quietly, like he was telling her some form of secret. Malia took the cue, and replied softly, just loud enough for him to hear comfortably but just low enough for eavesdroppers to have a hard time. "Not long," She said, "I found out today."

"Then there are many books you will need," He nodded. "A friend of Madame Delacour's is a friend of mine! We accept non-magique currency in my shop, so you can buy your own books, but I suggest you change some over at the bank before going elsewhere," He advised. "Will do," Malia replied.

"Let's get you your purchases then, yes?" He clapped his hands together, smiling the smile of a capable businessman. "I know just the ones you'll need!"

* * *

"Isn't all this... a bit much?" Malia said, disconcertedly holding her purchases, currently stored away in a tiny little box, up to eye-level. "Nonsense," Fleur dismissed. "You want adventure, yes? You carry around zat bag of clothes and supplies. Eet iz obvious," The woman explained, at Malia's sharp look. "And admirable. And see - but zis is an adventure, iz it not?"

"I suppose so, yeah," Malia agreed, pocketing her box of books. It weighed next to nothing, which deceived just how many were stored away in there. "But... I mean, I've never been one for studying all that much..." She admitted.

"Well, az you are young still, I see no issue," Fleur said. "Live your life az you see fit; I 'ave seen that look in your eyes before... I admit, certainly, sometimes in my own." Fleur slowed them down to a stop outside of a cafe just next to a large building. "Ze bank," She gestured, before indicating one of the tables. "Sit. I will get you a drink."

"... Okay," Malia said. "Um - Fleur?" The woman looked back to Malia. "Yes?" 

"Thanks." Malia said. "For showing me - all this." She gestured.

The blonde smiled, dazzling, and - still, a little fuzzy. "Eet is my pleasure," Fleur inclined her head at Malia. "Now - Sit! I will be back." 

Malia nodded, and sat down at a table. 


End file.
